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#NotCamping

5/26/2014

After three camping weekends in a row, for a variety of reasons it didn't happen this weekend. On the plus side, I did read a short, helpful book by writer friend Elaine Orr on using #hashtags to promote one's books. So I'm practicing. Elaine writes a wonderful series of cozy mysteries set on the Jersey shore--check them out for a good summer read.

Anyway, one of the events over the weekend was a surprise dinner on Saturday in the Quad Cities for oldest son Andy, who will turn 50 tomorrow. I don't know how that happened.

We all pigged out at a Mongolian grill. I don't think they made any money off of us. It was great to see grandson Scott, now off in the working world and on his way to becoming a supreme welder. Oldest grandson Ty will be leaving in a week for basic training in the National Guard and Ty's girlfriend Alma received her AA degree this past week before heading off next fall to UNI. Grandson Elliot, in the foreground, will take fifth grade by storm next year while his sister Sophie moves on to high school. So we had lots to celebrate. But 50? Really, Andy, that is so #notnecessary.

Saturday night, brother-in=law Ken grilled lamb in honor of a visit from son Dave. So we pigged out again. Yesterday afternoon we took in one of Ty's last soccer games before he leaves. These adult leagues are quite different from kids' soccer. There aren't any coaches and there's more players than spectators. I had to get a shot of Ty standing still because when he moves, he's too fast for my camera to capture it. He gets it from me.

In between all of these family events there was weeding and writing. No withmetic. (#humor) But the camping was not out of mind. I cleaned the camper and started replenishing supplies before the next trip in about a week and a half. We will be at Elk Rock State Park on Lake Red Rock and be attending the "Concert on the Prairie" at the Neal Smith Wildlife Refuge.

We are excited about this event. It includes one guided walk with an Iowa wine tasting along the way, an exhibit by Iowa artists, tropical food, a Caribbean steel band on the prairie, and a twilight guided walk. It isn't too late to get tickets--they just extended the reservation window to May 31.

Meanwhile, Frannie Shoemaker has gotten herself in more trouble so I'd better see what I can do to help her out. It isn't easy being entirely responsible for a herd of fictional characters. #napcomingon

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Junior High Track Meets

5/20/2014

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Last night may have been our last attendance at this iconic American cultural event. Grandson Steven ran in the conference meet and next year will be in high school. Although our sons played golf in high school, they ran track in junior high so we started going to these about 1976.

I don't know of any other events where people travel as much as an hour to sit in wind, rain, or cold--or all of those--to watch a preteen perform for 17 seconds. Because, although spring in Iowa can be beautiful, it's never on the nights that they schedule junior high track meets. Two weeks ago at a meet in Tipton, the wind was so bad that I walked at a slant for the next three days.

The most amazing thing to me, having taught junior high for many years, is that they get that many kids to listen for first and final calls, and for the most part, show up when and where they are supposed to run. The rest of the time, they are milling around like pigeons, sometimes wrapped in fleece blankets or old sleeping bags, hooked up to iPods.

Another thing with junior high is the range of sizes. It is not unusual to to see a kid a head and a half shorter than the one he (or she) is running next to. Some are so small that their names don't fit across the backs of their shirts.

And then there's the hurdles. It seems to me the hurdles are a lot like the current women's clothing styles--there are very few who can pull it off and look good at it.

Concessions have changed over the years. It used to be that local groups would fund-raise by selling really good pork sandwiches or some other specialty. The popcorn is still usually good but the prepackaged sandwiches leave a lot to be desired.

The crowd is pretty much families of the runners; not too many people go to these for the fun of it. And they are supportive of all the kids; the small seventh grade boy who finishes a lap behind in a distance race gets as much applause from the whole crowd as the winner.

Occasionally, though, there are spectators who need a good knock alongside the head. Last night there was a group of five people in the front row of one section whom I dubbed The Pig Family. This was not in reference to their size--they all appeared to be fit and fairly trim adults. But these bleachers had a very narrow walkway in front of the first row and in most sections people left the first row vacant to allow passage. Not the Pig Family. They planted themselves on that front bench and did not budge for anyone. I watched one elderly woman have to weasel through sideways rather than going back down the steps and up another set to join her family. The Pig Family held their spots and craned their necks to look around her as if she was the problem. Obviously, their mamas didn't teach them no junior high track meet manners.

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Two in a Row

5/19/2014

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Even better weather on Sunday required a hike on one of Kent Park's Trails before loading up to go home. Vince, Letha, Chloe, and I struck out from the youth group camp and most of the time we even knew where we were--sort of.

There were lots of interesting trees and wetlands. A great deal of planting has gone on in recent years to, I think, repair damage Kent sustained several years ago from straight-line winds. But open areas are being encouraged too, to restore some prairie areas.

We found another of the old bridges, this one a pony truss design, along our route. Lots of trekking up and down the hills, but a lovely walk and perfect end to a great weekend. Well, not quite. A perfect end would have been if we had pulled the camper into the alley at home and someone else had parked it, unhooked it, unloaded it, and did the laundry. But you can't have everything.

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This Perfect Day

5/18/2014

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Oh, there was nothing special. But someone just posted a quote from writer Isaac Asimov that basically happiness consists of not wishing you were doing something else. So after a breakfast of smashed potatoes and sausage gravy, eggs, and ham, everyone pursued their own interests. Mushroom hunting for some; naps or errands for others; we walked around the lake and checked out the six old bridges Johnson County had moved into the park from country roads.

In the afternoon, I did some writing and later, a visit from friends drew all the campers back into the circle. Preparations began for supper: everyone had their own meat to grill and dishes to share. Fresh morels for appetizers, and in addition to steak, turkey tenderloins, and pork chops, we had potatoes, asparagus, Caesar salad, a bean salad, bread, fruit and veggie trays. Yum. I'm pretty sure no one wished they were somewhere else.

Later, angel food cake with strawberries and ice cream, and inspiring conversation around the fire. A good day.

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The Elusive Morel

5/17/2014

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We are at F. W. Kent Park, a lovely county park, with four other couples. Yesterday, three of us newbies tramped the woods with experienced and tenacious mushroom hunter Letha. It was cloudy and cool but not windy which makes all the difference. I had one guided discovery (where Letha says "I'm standing near one--see if you can find it") and one completely on my own. Marci, however, skunked all of us with six.

We ended up with a grand total of twelve--not the bulging sacks we had envisioned but enough for some tasty appetizers tonight. It didn't matter; the woods were beautiful. The May apples were in bloom and everything was covered with that amazing spring green.

And what is that thing on the right, you ask? We don't know either but Letha's going to research it on the Internet. It's hard to imagine what the pioneers did without Google.

After we returned, Letha and I put together two different versions of jambalaya and accompanied by cheese biscuits, followed by a great ice cream dessert, it was a feast fit for fine fellows. A perfect campfire finished the evening.

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Thanks, Mom

5/11/2014

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She's been gone almost thirty years. She never got to know some of her grandchildren or any of her great-grandchildren. She missed one of her grandsons playing in the state basketball tournament, a great-grandson running in the Drake Relays, and knowing several sons and daughters-in-law. She never got to retire and relax for a whole holiday without worrying about getting back to "the store" to start the post holiday sale.

She ended her life in a town where she knew very few people other than family and was only known as my mother, rather than in the town she had spent most of her life, as Eleanor Musser, successful businesswoman and church and community leader. She did not live as long as I have.

But she raised six children almost single-handedly. She worked two jobs to get off welfare. No matter how much she worked outside the home, her house was immaculate and her meals were excellent and cooked from scratch. She made my junior prom dress from a remnant my grandmother had picked up and put the zipper in by hand. In an age of scratchy tulle formals, that dress was comfortable and unique; it went to college with me and was borrowed by several friends for fraternity formals.

She wanted to be a nurse when she grew up and although she was salutatorian of her class, it was the middle of the depression and she never got the chance. She was strict and demanding of her children but thought the sun rose and set with her grandchildren. She called me once giggling because 'two college boys had taken her out for lunch.' Our oldest son and a friend had driven up from Cedar Falls, and although they 'took her out,' I'm sure she picked up the bill.

She was a fan of both Iowa and Iowa State sports. Her cinnamon rolls and angel food cake were not to be believed. She never gave up. Thanks, Mom.

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Recreatin' at the Res

5/10/2014

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Sometimes, as I have mentioned, we camp because there is a barbecue contest. Sometimes because of a wedding or other family event. Or there may be a mountain man rendezvous or some other attraction nearby. But sometimes we camp just because we can.

Five days ago when the weather forecast for the weekend sounded passable and no commitments tied us down, we decided to try a campground on the Mississippi that we have been interested in. However, on Tuesday, our scouts reported that due to flooding, all but a few sites were under water. But now we're in the mood so a search produced two side-by-side sites at the Tailwater West Campground below the dam at the Coralville Reservoir overlooking this lovely little lagoon.

Only twenty minutes from home, nice level cement pads, and half price for us old folks made this an easy decision. Several other friends happen to be in three sites across the road. So far the weather has been great, other then an unnecessary wind yesterday. Steak and salmon cooked over the fire last night were a win-win. But sometimes I wonder if the biggest attraction for me isn't just the fact that all of those projects waiting at home are just out of reach.

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Say What? Camping?

5/5/2014

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So the weekend was all planned. Friday night, John Adams (not the President) reading at our library from his new book, The Millionaire and the Mummies. Saturday, a house showing, errands, and some yard work. Sunday, serve communion at church and in the evening, Garrison Keiller in Iowa City.

Friday afternoon at 5:30, the call came. "Saulsbury's open!" Saulsbury Bridge Recreation Area is a wonderful county park that is one of our favorite close-by jaunts. We never got there last year because it didn't open until midsummer due to spring and early summer flooding and the rest of the camping season was pretty booked up. We mulled it over for about 17 seconds. We couldn't make it work Friday night, but we could by mid-Saturday.

And by Saturday after lunch we were parked and set up. The packing had been minimal. One change of clothes, some marinating steaks and the makings for roasted veggies and "S'moreos." We took a short hike to the river and watched two pair of enterprising Canadian geese who had each nested on one of the old stone bridge piers out in the middle of the river.

After naps, we cooked steaks over the fire and had a lovely meal. And we lucked out with the evening weather. The radar showed a line of storms headed our way that stretched from the Missouri to the Minnesota border. But as it barreled southeast toward us, the north end disintegrated and the rest passed south of us. All we got was a sudden shift of wind from the west to the east that lasted less than half a minute and caused a little coughing and chair shifting around the fire before it switched back again.

The 'S'moreos' are an internet hint that involves separating an Oreo into halves and putting a roasted marshmallow in between the two. Not bad.

Sunday we trekked to town for church--just 20 miles--and then back for 'hobo dinners' over the fire. All in all, despite the total lack of planning, a successful trip. After all we had good friends, good food, and good weather. What more do you need?

And, by the way, Garrison Keillor was awesome!

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